The Mystery at Maypenny's

Then her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Trixie,” she breathed, “you don’t think that he could be ‘they’, do you?”
    Trixie looked quizzically at her friend, then realized what Honey was asking. “No, Honey,” she said quickly. “I don’t think Mr. Maypenny did away with John Score. He and John were on the same side, trying to keep International Pine from expanding. No,” she repeated, “it isn’t that. It’s—” She stopped and shrugged. “I don’t know what it is.”
    “Maybe Mr. Maypenny was just confused. He’s had an awful lot on his mind lately,” Honey said gently.
    Trixie’s face drained of color and she turned to look at Honey. “That’s what it is, Honey. Do you know how often people have said that about Mr. Maypenny in the past few weeks? That’s what he himself said when he had to ask us to find that rotted tree. That’s what we said to his nephew when Mr. Maypenny let the fire go out the night of our cookout. Now you’re saying it.”
    “What are you getting at, Trixie?” Honey asked.
    Trixie exhaled slowly. “Mr. Maypenny always has had a lot of things on his mind—hunting and fishing and trapping and gardening and making sure he has enough food put away to last him through the winter. He’s always managed to keep track of all those things with no problems at all. Now, suddenly, he seems confused and forgetful all the time.” Trixie paused, chewing her lower lip, fearful of finishing her thought. “I—I just wonder, Honey, if David Maypenny was right. Maybe he was able to see his uncle more clearly than we do, because we’ve known him for so long. Maybe Mr. Maypenny is getting too old to live in these woods alone.”
    Honey’s eyes brimmed with tears of sympathy. “That can’t be it, Trixie,” she said softly. “It just can’t be.”
    Trixie shook her head as if to throw the thought out of her mind. “I hope not,” she said.
    Strawberry shifted restlessly under Honey. “We can’t just sit here all day,” Honey observed. “What should we do?”
    Trixie thought for a moment. “How much money do you have?” she asked, reaching into her own pocket and pulling out a crumpled dollar bill.
    Honey searched all her pockets and came up with two quarters and three pennies. She held them in her open palm for Trixie to see.
    “It might be enough,” Trixie said. “If it isn’t, maybe he’ll accept charges.”
    “Enough for what?” Honey demanded. “Who’ll accept what charges?”
    “David Maypenny,” Trixie answered. Seeing her friend’s still confused expression, she started from the beginning. “Even if Mr. Maypenny isn’t—well, failing, he is in trouble. If the town council finally votes not to let International Pine expand in Sleepyside, there might be some hotheads who’ll think it’s Mr. Maypenny’s fault that they lost out on good jobs. If the council votes for the expansion, Mr. Maypenny will have another fight on his hands to keep from selling his land to them.
    “David is still his only blood relative, even though they don’t see eye to eye. So I think David has a right to know what’s happening,” Trixie concluded.
    “Then the money is for a call to New York,” Honey said. “Why don’t we just go to my house and call? I’m sure Miss Trask would be happy to give us permission.”
    Trixie shook her head. “I don’t think we should tell anybody we’re calling.”
    “Why not?” Honey demanded. “If you’re sure it’s the right thing to do, why should we keep it a secret?”
    “I don’t know why, exactly,” Trixie admitted. “It’s partly because I don’t want to have to tell anyone except David Maypenny what we suspect. I don’t want to have to tell anyone about finding that car. I don’t— I don’t know,” she concluded helplessly. “I’d just rather keep it a secret for a couple of days.”
    Honey stared at the ground for a moment, thinking about what Trixie had said. Usually, her sandy-haired friend’s hunches were good ones. Sometimes, though, they got her into trouble. “All right,” Honey agreed finally. “Let’s try to call David Maypenny from the booth outside Mr. Lytell’s store.”
    The girls urged their horses into a canter, and the restless animals took off eagerly.
    At Mr. Lytell’s, Trixie handed her crumpled dollar to Honey. “You go inside and get some change for the telephone,” she said. “If I go, he’ll ask me a lot of questions, and he’ll get more information out of me than I